Cold Blooded Killer
by Marty and the Moon
Summary: “Hermione what on earth are you doing with him? And doing- doing that - with Malfoy of all people!” DM/HG a little bit of violence, not very graphic, depression, cursing, threats, unforgivable curses. Yeah summary sucks, stories better. Trust me.
1. Aberration

**Chapter 1: Aberration**

_Aberration: A deviation from truth or moral rectitude._

Hermione stood in the doorway crying, thinking back on what had started all of this. Really it was all his fault and he had no right to explode like this. He hadn't even listened to her side of the story! No he just assumed and then expected her to grovel to get back into his good graces. Well she wasn't. This was the last time she'd say she was sorry to Ronald Weasley!

As she made that decision the images of the altercation that had started this swam back into focus and she grimly wiped away the tears that marred her pale flesh and stalked off to the Head Girls room. She glanced over to the stairwell that had led down into the dungeons, exactly where she had been going when this had started.

She had been heading down there to meet Professor Snape for a detention; another misplaced defense of Neville Longbottom in his class had lost her twenty points and gained her three nights of Detention. Of course just to sweeten her mood she had seen Ron and Lavender going at it yet again in the common room. Every time she caught them at it she could feel her heart being ripped to pieces all over again. As usual Ronald was absolutely clueless.

Walking down the stairs to quickly and being extremely pissed off she hadn't been watching where she was going and ran right into the Dungeon Ferret himself. _'Great,'_ she had though, _'a moving target.'_ She had needed something to release her anger on. What better than the Slytherin Snake?

"Watch where you're going Mudblood!" He spat whipping off his robes, keeping up the pretense that she was supposedly dirty.

"You're the one with your nose so far up in the air you can't see where you're walking! Next time watch where you're walking you great oaf!" She replied saucily pushing her books back into her already stuffed backpack.

"Don't tell me what to do! Just because you're the Head Girl doesn't mean you get to boss everyone else around. Especially not the Head Boy! Or had you already forgotten you filthy little mudblood?" He sneered, flashing her his head boy badge attached to his collar.

Before they both knew it her wand was pulled out and pressed to his chin, her normally amber eyes turned into a dark chocolate color. "Don't you call me that! Don't you ever call me that you bloody wanker!"

"The truth to much to handle for you Granger!" He spat back, slightly shaking in fear as her wand tip dug deeper into his pale, delicate, neck. Abruptly she pulled her wand back, it disappearing into the folds of her robes. She was grinning and quite suddenly started laughing at him. He stood back straight up and readjusted his robes. "You finally lost it Granger?" But instead of the comment making her angry it just made her laugh harder.

Her laughter finally died down and she crossed her arms to look at him critically. "You know, you really are pathetic Malfoy."

"Ha, not as pathetic as some. That Weasley moron noticed that you're terribly in love with him yet? Or are you still following him and his girlfriend around like a lost puppy?" Hermione's hand lashed out, like it was second nature, but this time he was ready and caught her hand before it could come into contact with his cheek. Damn Seeker reflexes.

"Let go of me Malfoy." She said trying to pull out of his grip, her small wrist enveloped easily by his hand. Hermione was strong but not as strong as someone who had been playing quidditch for five years. Not to mention Draco was also about a foot bigger than her. She looked up, her eyes wide as his grip tightened painfully on her wrist.

"Stop it! You're hurting me Malfoy!" She cried in vain, her other hand pushing against his chest.

"No, I don't think I will. What can't handle a little pain?" He growled out. She started kicking at his legs, trying to do anything too get him to let go, but nothing worked. At least, nothing worked until she looked up at him, tears turning her eyes red and streaking down her cheeks, unadulterated fear showing in her eyes.

Malfoy looked down at where he was holding her wrist, the delicate skin already showing red and purpled bruises and he let go quickly, disgusted with what he saw. Unfortunately, as he tried to move back, Hermione was leaning too much on him and both of them were pitched backwards, towards the dungeon wall. They tripped over each others feet until there bodies were pressed closely together, the cool stone bringing a chill over the twos angry red blush.

It wasn't even a real kiss. Really it was more like their faces ran into each other. But Parvati and Padma had to have come down the stairs right then and start giggling madly at catching the two in the compromising position. The two quickly pushed the other way in angry disgust, and then the giggle floated through the red haze around their minds and both pairs of eyes looked over half scared as they saw the gossip twins.

"Oh god, no, you guys it's not what it looks like."

"Ha, you wish Granger."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" She shrieked. Unfortunately Hermione's pleading only went to convincing the twins further of their wrong assumption of what had happened, and by that night the whole school knew that Hermione and Draco were meeting in secret snog sessions in the dungeons while on their Head Duty Patrols.

And then Ron just had to explode like that. He didn't even know what was going on. It wasn't like he even asked for her side of the story. Hermione wished fervently that Harry would come back from his trip with Dumbledore already. She needed him to be the mediator between the two of them again.

Of course the news of her and the slithering prince hooking up had ostracized her form the Gryffindor common room, no one there willing to talk to her, the traitor. She prayed that Harry would return soon as she prepared for bed, slipping under the cool sheets in her room. Looking at the door to the common room, where on the other side lay an ebony door which leads to Draco's own quarters.

This would all get cleared up soon and Ronald would eventually have to forgive her. Harry would make sure of that, and things could go back to normal. She could go back to being at different sides of every small war at Hogwarts from Malfoy. Things would be better tomorrow morning.


	2. Bigot

A/N: Happy New years! Here's a little gift to bring in the new year! :)

**Chapter 2: Bigot**

_Bigot: A person who is utterly intolerant of any differing creed, belief, or opinion._

Draco entered the Slytherin common room, his head held high and a sneer showing easily on his face, but he did not get the expected reception. Instead he was met with by immediate silence. He looked over at the groups of people huddled together glancing at him, trying to not get caught. He swept the room with his ice blue eyes, slowly; as he passed each group they looked away biting their tongues and trying to look busy.

Pansy and Blaise, shadowed by Crabbe and Goyle approached him. Pansy looking slightly scared and Blaise was sneering. Draco smirked slightly to himself as his familiar groupies approached him, but instead of moving to his flanks as usual they stood behind Blaze, who was still sneering insufferably.

"Zabini?" Draco said, actually quite bored with this movement already.

"We heard about your dirty little mudblood. Taste of mud good to you, Draco?" Blaze challenged arching an eyebrow. So that's what he thought, well we couldn't have that. Draco moved forward. He was fast and Blaise had no chance to catch him. Before he knew it he was pinned against the dungeon wall, Draco's hand around his skinny little neck.

"Before you wouldn't even dare to say my first name Blaise, what's got you changing, hmm? I think I liked you better as a sniveling shadow. Now, unless you want the Malfoys to remind you're family exactly how far you have fallen, I suggest you treat me with the respect I am owed." Draco didn't raise his voice throughout this but everyone in the room heard him, their eyes wide at Zabini's brief revolt against Malfoy.

"Oh, and one more thing Blaise, unless you want me to show you exactly how much lower your family could sink then you will not accuse me of anything, **ever**; especially not of being a mudblood lover." Draco finished, slowly cutting of Zabini's air supply for emphasis. "They are scum, and you are almost as low as they are right now, Blaise. Now be a good little boy and do as you're told."

Draco let go, acting as if Zabini was something disgusting that he didn't want to be touching. Zabini fell to the ground coughing and holding his throat, trying to bring in the valuable oxygen he had been deprived. Draco just rolled his eyes and walked away smoothly, settling on one of the emerald couches.

"Anyone else care to accuse me of being a blood-traitor?" He asked bored. The room sat in stony silence. The Slytherin's knew when their prince was in a bad mood, so they stayed quiet, he didn't like to be disturbed. Pansy looked relieved at the turn of events and ran over to sit beside the prince, acting sleazy as she was to do around him.

"Oh, Dracie-poo, I knew you never could have really kissed that mudblood whore! She probably wished you'd just look at her. Honestly it so pathetic. And poor you, you have to put up with her and her assault on you. You had to actually endure kissing a mudblood!" Pansy looked like she was going to retch at the thought and she moved forward her arms wrapped around Draco's neck.

"Parkinson," Draco said precisely, spitting out her name coldly. "Do not touch me."

"But-but Drakie!"

"You were right there beside Zabini when he was riding his high horse. Sure he can't stand up now, but you were standing with him when he could. You were just as ready as to accuse me as he was. So get your hands off of me." Pansy nodded quickly pulling away as he growled out his response to her advance. She looked down in submission as the Slytherin Prince continued to glare at her. She didn't know why but something about his eyes, they froze you where you stood.

Draco hissed at her standing up quickly and walked out of the room, he had had enough of this disloyalty. He strode through the dungeon hallways half wanting to run into some students out when they shouldn't be, and half wanting to be left alone. He gave the password to the Head Boy's and Girls room and walked impatiently by the child in the painting into the dim common room.

If the lights were out that meant Granger was already in bed, pity. He would have had fun running the little mudblood in circles about their so called kiss. Honestly how could anyone think that was a kiss? They had barely even touched! It was ridiculous, and if the mudblood thought that was a kiss she had less of a life than he had thought.

She was disgusting, and pathetic, always reading and never talking to anyone. No wonder she had no clue what a kiss was, she pushed everyone out of her life. She probably thought she was better than them, but really he knew the reason why she did what she did. He stood in front of her bedroom door, panting angrily as his eyes absorbed the pattern of the wood.

She knew what she was, and she knew she didn't deserve her friends, they were more pure than her, and she didn't deserve them. That's why she pushed them away; they were too good for her. She always had to work so hard, staying up till nearly dawn, because this magic didn't come naturally to her like it did to purebloods. She knew why she had to work so hard. The question was, if she knew she didn't deserve it, why did she insist on trying again and again?

He shook his head, why should he care? She was a dumb, lowlife, mudblood; one who was no concern of his. He stalked across the common room, placing his hand on his own door so it would open for him and slamming it behind him. The bitch deserved to be woken up by him, he didn't deserve sharing living quarters with her. He was so above her! And he was forced to stay where he could smell her at all hours, know where she was and what the hell she was doing.

Draco removed his school robes, tie and shirt, and walked over to his dresser. On top was a container filled with vials and he opened it up reverently and gently removed one of the little containers. He popped the top off and drank down his one version of holy water quickly. The energy given by his drink ran through his blood and he smiled some sick version of what a smile was supposed to be.

He picked up a nearby chair easily throwing it across the room and watched it shatter into pieces on the opposite wall. He should have done that to that mudblood, he could have broken her so easily. He was weak and had hesitated, that wouldn't happen again.

He looked at the full length mirror beside him and moved his hand out quickly, held in a tight fist, to hit the glass. It cracked around his hand, but held steady, the lines he had created going across his face in the mirror.

Yes, this was what he was. He was pure and he was amazing. He was practically a god walking on this earth and that mudblood bitch was going to see that! If it was the last thing he would ever do he would make her see it.


	3. Cataclysm

**Chapter 3: Cataclysm**

_Cataclysm: A violent upheaval that causes great destruction or brings about a fundamental change._

Hermione was dreaming, and she knew she was dreaming, but for some reason her mind just wasn't excepting that fact. She was running as fast as she possibly could through some kind of forest. By the thickness of the tress and the local flora she assumed it was the Forbidden Forest. Everything seemed to blur around her as she ran, so it was hard to tell.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure what she was running form, she just knew she had to as fast as she could. A scream was trying to tear itself out of her lungs but she just breathed faster, needing all the oxygen she could get to power her muscles and run just that bit faster.

_'It's not going to work. Getting closer. God, I'm going to die,'_ her dream self thought frantically as they weaved on the uneven pass through the forest. A dark cloud seemed to appear form no where, tendrils reaching out towards her. The cloud approached closer and she could have sworn she saw a flash of light to her left. She turned to follow it and her eyes sight was swallowed by a haunting quicksilver color.

"**I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation  
You're living in the past it's a new generation  
A girl can do what she wants to do and that's  
What I'm gonna do  
An' I don't give a damn ' bout my bad reputation!"**

_'Whoa, What?' _Hermione thought, confused by the strange interruption. What was that dream about? She was so terrified, even now a layer of sweat coated her back and her hands were they had been clenched in her sleep. She rolled over, and remembered the reason for the loud interruption. It was her alarm clock. Her Muggle, radio alarm clock. It had taken forever but she finally got it to work at Hogwarts. In all honestly she was extremely proud with herself.

She got out of bed happily and let the music keep playing as she smiled dancing across the room over to her wardrobe. Hermione loved being up and alive in the mornings, and was even more so after a good cup of coffee. She pulled out the traditional Hogwarts uniform, with the pleated gray skirts, white dress shirt, and the Gryffindor colored tie. The shirt had been modified by Ginny to "fit" her better and she wore the tie loose. Over the summer between sixth and seventh year Hermione appeared to have embraced the benefits of being a woman.

She removed a night shirt and slipped into comfortable under things, all the while moving to the mad beat of the rock song blaring through her radio speakers. Half-dressed, with her skirt on and her shirt half buttoned her door was shaken on its hinges, something not unlike a werewolf pounding on the hard oak of the door. She ran over quickly and opened it, holding her shirt closed with one hand and looking for whatever emergency happened to be on the other side of her door.

Instead of some life threatening situation with Harry or Ron (or both) she was met with ice blue eyes that were currently glaring a whole through her forehead. It took her half a second for her to realize it was Draco Malfoy and another half a second to slam the door in his face. She wasn't even fully dressed and she was sure that Malfoy wouldn't hesitate to use a situation like that against her; especially not after what happened the afternoon previous.

She hurriedly buttoned up the rest of her shirt and immediately regretted picking one of Ginny's modified outfits today. It was shorter then a regulation shirt showing a strip of her tanned stomach and it had short sleeves showing off her toned arms. It was more form fitting then most of the stuff Hermione would normally wear. It couldn't be helped now and if she did anything else the prick would probably think she was trying to look nice for him. She went back to the door and opened it, struggling to pull on some wedge heeled black sandals.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She demanded loudly, yelling to be heard over the music. She was leaned back a bit trying to adjust the ankle strap to go over her heal and to rest at it's proper space were ankle indented to meet the foot. She looked up through a curtain of curly brown hair at his absolutely livid face.

"Turn that rubbish down." His face was cold but she saw the mad anger that was in turmoil beneath the surface. She didn't know why Malfoy always seemed to push her over the edge. It happened more often even than it did with Ron. The way he had told her instead of asking her caused a spark to set off and as it was added with the events of the day before and the fact that he hadn't even bother to address her, like she was some kind of servant, caused the spark to grow into an inferno.

"No."

"No?"

"I know it's hard for you to understand a monosyllable word but I'll try to say it slow for you. Nnnnoooooo." She sounded them out individually, purposely drawing out the vowels to be as condescending as possible to him.

"No!" And now his teeth seemed to be grinding insistently against each other and she had a feeling that if it wasn't Malfoy his face would be turning a roaring red.

"Yeah, you should really get used to that Malfoy. As long as we share a common room you're going to be hearing it."

"You filthy little bitch! Why is it that you can't do what anyone tells you to do, not once? You act all high and mighty with your little Gryffindor angle act and really the entire time you break more rules and cares less about everyone else than the average Slytherin!" Hermione, if she had been given a chance, could probably have read about thirty different things out of that rant alone. But she really didn't have a chance. He had grabbed her shoulder and pinned her against the door hard. One hand applying more than enough pressure to bruise and the other buried about an inch into the wood beside her face.

_'Did Malfoy just punch my door?'_ Hermione thought. If she had been thinking rationally she probably would not have said what she did next, but she was currently pissed off that shed have to get the house elves to get her a new door.

"Malfoy, you bastard! You broke my door! You filthy Slytherin! The only way you could care about anyone is if it was the means to an end." She ground out trying to struggle out of his grip. Her wand was lying useless on her bedside table and his hand was really starting to hurt on her shoulder. She faintly noticed that she had to have been held at least four inches off the ground for her eyes to be this close to Malfoys without him leaning over.

"Good, Granger. You're starting to catch on to our little game." And he dug his fingers in harder to the back of her shoulder, his palm meeting the pressure on the other side. She bit her lip to keep from screaming and her eyes were rolling back into her head as pain shot out from the joint. With a crack she heard the bone break and then everything went dark.


	4. Dissemblance

**Chapter 4: Dissemblance**

_Dissemblance: To disguise or conceal one's real nature, motives, or feelings behind a false appearance._

Shit! Why couldn't Draco keep in control of his temper? Everything about this muggle bitch just pushed him over the edge! It was ridiculous how easy he lost control of the infamous Malfoy Mask whenever she opened up the black hole she calls a mouth. Yes, Draco knew what a Black Hole was. Astronomy was after all one of their key courses.

He punched the wall again, just below where he had before, right after Hermione had feinted. He knew her shoulder was broken. The bones were probably shattered, could not be fixed with a simple spell. Maybe if Madame Pomfrey had a go at it and used a half bottle of Skel-a-grow it could be good as new, but Draco wasn't about to let her go to Madame Pomfrey.

How was he supposed to explain breaking her shoulder that bad with just the pressure of his hand? Even if he did come up with a reasonable excuse he knew that Dumbledore would be suspicious of him. He had a job to do, assigned to him by the Dark Lord, and he couldn't do it with that old fool breathing down his neck all the time.

Draco reluctantly picked the mudblood up and carried her away from his body like she was some smelly, vile piece of trash. He dropped her on the couch and flinched when she yelped. Not because the noise bothered him but he was terrified that she would wake up before he was able to cover up his stupid mistake.

Draco knew what he had to do but he really, really didn't want to do it. If the Dark Lord ever found out…. if Lucius ever found out… He shuddered and looked back at the mudblood determined to do what he had to. He was not going to go through that all over again just because she was an annoying whore. He strode over and sat down beside her. Ugh, he could feel all her nasty mudblood germs infest him from being this close. He was going to have to bathe until his skin was raw.

Draco sighed, taking in a deep breath, before he raised his arms to his lips. He made a small cut with his incisor and then lowered his wrist towards her mouth. He said, in a voice that was steel with authority and soothing and sensual like silk, commanding her to drink. Her mouth opened and he placed his wrist above her mouth and watched as the first drop of blood welling out of the cut landed on her lips.

It took but a second but then she was latched onto his arm, sucking on the small cut, every nerve in her body acutely tied to how much more she could get of that sweet substance. Draco couldn't help but to moan as his blood was taken from him and he felt his own thirst growing and growing, his mouth felt to full and he became fascinated with the rapidly pumping blood flowing through her neck. It was right there, in front of his face, it would be so easy for just a small taste.

"**No!"** He pulled himself back from where he had been, centimeters from her neck, and he quickly snapped his jaw shut, biting his tongue in the process. Blood filled his mouth and he looked back at her, still attached to his wrist like it was the elixir of life.

"**NO!"** This time he screamed it and he pulled himself away, tearing his wrist form her grasp. He would not sink as low as to taste mudblood. Never would he ever be that desperate. He licked the wound on his wrist, not even bothering to watch it heal itself up, and he walked forward towards Hermione. So far she was out of it; he probably had about ten minutes until she woke up. It was time to set the stage.

He quickly moved her to the bottom of the stairs, moved her arms to cover her face and her legs to her chest. He took one of her school books from her room and put it beside her and then lay the others out in a uneven line down the stairs. He then sat waiting at the top of the stairs for her to weak up. He heard a moan and then he set off down the stairs, trying to be slow and look normal.

"Granger? You done killing yourself?"

"What? Malfoy! W-what happened?" She looked around confused, at the books along the stairs and at the one beside her then she rubbed her shoulder tenderly. I knew it wasn't broken anymore but I still flinched as she went up to touch it. You never know when blood magic could go wrong in a mudblood.

"You fell down the stairs. It was actually quite amusing watching you fall, similar to Longbottom trying to fly a broomstick. Movements were actually almost identical. Makes one wonder where you two went to practice such things. He smirked down at her, using his height for what it was for: Showing superiority over those who were lesser. He sniffed in disdain, offering her a hand like it was a gift, which it was. Of course she always had to be difficult so she yelled in outrage scrambling to a vertical position on her own, and somehow, with her clothes all rumpled and her hair a mess she managed to pull off a blood chilling glare.

"You punched my door."

"To prove a point, Granger."

"You held me inches from the ground and broke my shoulder."

"Oh really? Your shoulder looks fine to me. The way I remembered it I punched your door and you ran down the stairs and tripped." I knew it was flimsy, since she and I both knew she didn't have the common sense to run, after all, she was a Gryffindor.

"Bu-but…" I finally caught her amber eyes with my own, trapping her in my gaze, as I spoke to her in the most power laced voice I could muster.

"You ran and fell down the stairs, Granger." When I said her name I thought she was going to collapse or something. Her heart rate had increased exponentially and her chest heaved as she tried to bring in more air. Might I add the fact that she was still clad in her pajamas. Overall it was not a bad sight, if you excluded the fact that she was of course a mudblood, so therefore untouchable.

I looked away and she snapped out of it. She looked confused for a second and then shook her head, disgust crossing her face for a moment. I wish I could just crack into her brain right now, see what she was thinking. I was an academic man after all and was curious about what affects my coercion of the mind would have on her. But there was already too much of a chance taken today and I did not need to add to it by getting caught in her head. She would probably just reverse it on me and then I would really be screwed.

I waited with baited breath until finally she turned around, her cheeks red, and picked up the books on the stairs and floor going back into her room, hopefully changing into school clothes. Draco went and sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. Damn, it still smelled like her and his blood he snatched one of the pillows off of the sofa with a growl and pressed it into his face.

He drew in her scent and moaned, his head rolling back on his shoulders. He knew what the consequences would be after sharing his blood with hers… Well he knew what would happen in theory. As long as he didn't touch hers things would be fine. He took another deep breath and sighed, knowing that this was as close as he was going to ever get. Doesn't matter though, one way or the other the mudblood was his. He couldn't wait to see the result of their next little fight.

"What will the poor mudblood do when she's told to shut her trap and actually does it?" He laughed as he saw the image of her immediately stopping in the middle of her tirade, simply because he asked. Poor Granger would be so confused. He grinned evilly at the thought. Oh the fun we will have, the mudblood and I.


End file.
